


When he doesn't call you Captain

by adarkwintersday



Series: Hide Those Ears [11]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Canon Dialogue, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-11 04:16:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 44
Words: 12,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7875868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adarkwintersday/pseuds/adarkwintersday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isn’t there some kind of Starfleet regulation against those cheekbones?  </p><p>TOS (a lot of it verbatim), Jim's perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue (2269; Lost in Translation)

‘Spock, what’s the Vulcan word for love?’

‘I’m sorry, Captain?’

‘You heard me.’

 

He has been drinking.  Based on the slight flush on his cheeks, and the subtle change in his speech patterns, Spock estimates that the Captain has consumed about half a bottle of scotch.  

 

This explains why he is talking nonsense.

 

Nevertheless the nonsense hurts.  

 

‘It is…complicated.’

‘How can it be _complicated_?’

 

Humans under the influence of ethanol tend to indulge in irrelevant philosophical speculation.  Even the Captain, who is by nature neither speculative nor irrelevant.

 

This explains why he is speaking to Spock of love.

  

‘You cannot be suggesting, Captain, that love isn’t?’

‘I - no.  But isn’t that the point?  Of having just one word for it?’

 

He does not mean to be cruel.  Spock cannot imagine for one moment that he does.  Nevertheless…

 

‘You are suggesting that by using semantics one can... _simplify_ matters?’

‘Yes.’

 

Spock knows of desert peoples who have many words for sand.  Of races on ice-bound planets who give snow many names.

 

Vulcans speak of love in many ways.

 

‘Captain, you appear tired.  Can I escort you to your quarters?’

‘I’m fine, Mr Spock.  Thank you.’

 

~

 

Recently the Captain’s behaviour has been…erratic.  Spock has no concerns about the Captain’s professionalism.  But the Captain is - different.  Restless.  There are dark shadows under his eyes, and he is excessively dependent on the doctor’s stimulants. 

 

And he is different with Spock, too.  Less tactile.  Less _natural_.  Sometimes Spock suspects that he is avoiding eye contact.

 

As far as Spock is concerned, this is tantamount to being cast out into hell.

 

He stands further away from Spock, as well.  Since the day they met the Captain has had little-to-no respect for Spock’s personal space.  Standing too close.  Touching too much.  Initially, Spock recalls, he found this profoundly disconcerting.  Now it takes every ounce of his (quite phenomenal) will-power to stop him closing the distance himself.

 

Spock wonders if the incident on Holberg 917-G is connected in some way.  No Vulcan mind-meld can remove _love_ , and perhaps Spock miscalculated.  Perhaps the Captain really did, in just those few hours… 

 

It is not logical to think about it.

 

Spock spends long, agonising nights thinking about it.


	2. An Irresistible Flirt (2266)

Jim spends too much time trying to get a rise out of him.

 

He knows it’s a waste of resources.  They taught him _efficiency_ at the Academy.  He’s a Starship captain.  No time to waste.

 

But his new First Officer is the most fascinating thing he’s ever met - and Jim can’t help himself.

 

And sometimes it works.  

 

‘Are you certain you don’t know what irritation is?’

 

Spock’s still going to win this game of chess.  But at least Jim’s got on his nerves.  He feels a continuous need to do so.   It’s an itch he has to scratch.  The need to hold Spock’s attention.  To make Spock's face flicker with some kind of emotion.  

 

To make Spock look into his eyes.

 

~

 

He teases Jim back.  Jim’s not sure that he means to, but he does.  

 

‘Has it occurred to you that there's a certain…inefficiency, in constantly questioning me on things you've already made up your mind about?’

It’s hard to pay attention to what he says.  Jim is too busy watching the disturbingly graceful movements of his face.

‘It gives me emotional security.’

The corners of his mouth turn up, and his eyes drop.  Isn’t there some kind of Starfleet regulation against those cheekbones?  _Christ_.   

 

 _He’s beautiful_.  The play of thoughts across his features is the most beautiful thing Jim’s ever seen.  He feels like a teenager for thinking it.  He feels like a teenager whenever Spock lets him stand this close.

 

More and more often - Spock does.

 

~

 

Jim Kirk is very good with women.  But he has never been any good _at_ women.

 

When he was young (and, he now appreciates, quite ridiculously good-looking) he drew them like a magnet.  And he was very serious, and had no defences.  He always succumbed - that blond lab technician at the Academy wasn’t the only girl he nearly married.

 

He would always grasp his mistake too late - always at the point by which extracting himself was messy, and sad, and complicated.  It was only at that last, desperate minute that he would realise that he had fallen, yet again, for just a pretty face.

 

By the time that he turned thirty he was sure he’d had enough.  _Space_ \- that was infinite.  Could never let you down.  Could never turn out to be shallow and repetitive.

 

That doesn’t mean that girls are off the menu.  The occasional, mutually satisfactory tumble. 

 

And he’s slept with a couple of men too, of course.

 

In the twenty-third century it would be weird if he hadn’t.  

 

And with a number of non-humans.  Which makes him a bit of a lad, even in the year 2266. 

 

~

 

As the three women traipse out of the room, Jim’s First Officer flicks his eyebrows at him.  His face is barely even scornful.  Briefly, Jim is shaken out of his state of sexual quasi-hypnotism.  Mudd’s women are undeniably alluring.  But _kissing Spock_.Now wouldn't that be something?  

 

Which, he realises later, and with poorly controlled irritation, is clear evidence that he is a mere, fanciful human.    

 

Unless he _chooses to_ , Spock will not feel the need to kiss anyone.  

 

There’s not a human male on board who doesn’t practically drool at the sight of Harry Mudd’s strange cargo.  But Mr Spock remains immune.  

 

He is not under the sway of his _emotions_. 

 

During the next few days Jim spends quite a lot of time reading data from the ship’s library on _Vulcans_.  

 

~

 

Janice Rand is always knocking about.

 

True, she has the worst hairstyle in the known universe, and not much to say for herself.  But _god,_ that ass.

 

He’d like to spend some time alone with her.  On a beach, perhaps.  They’d get very drunk, and then… 

 

And then there’s Lieutenant Uhura, who’s beautiful, but alarmingly smart.  And also, he has noticed, has a bit of a crush on Spock.   

 

He doesn’t even know which one of them to be jealous of.  

  

~

 

‘Mind your own business, Mr Spock.  I'm sick of your half-breed interference - _do you hear?_ ’

 

Jim has to send him a message.  Something so _ego-dystonic_ that Spock cannot fail to recognise it.  He thinks this up in the seconds before he passes out.  He is, after all, the galaxy’s greatest improviser.

 

Later he wonders why he was so sure.  He has only known his First Officer for a couple of months.  

 

How did he know, without the shadow of a doubt, that Spock would get it?  

 

That he would respond?

 

The use of the term _half-breed_ may have been a step too far.  

 

But Spock read him loud and clear.

 

~

 

Jim has already developed a habit of checking Spock’s face.  It’s not exactly that he wants to know what Spock’s opinion is.  But Spock’s always _paying attention_.  Seems to validate his thoughts with a glance.

 

Or sometimes, gently, to challenge them - with the merest shift of an eyebrow, or a flicker at the corner of his mouth.  

 

He finds that he can bounce off Spock, in a way that he’s never been able to bounce off anyone else.

 

It sharpens his decision-making processes. 

 

And it gives them a certain… _spice_.

 

~

 

‘And I _do_ want to come back to the ship, Captain.’

 

There’s nothing insane about that. 

 

So why can’t Jim stop smiling?  Why does he feel as if a supernova just went off in his chest?

 

‘Of course, Mr. Spock.’

 

Because there’s no way he’s imagining this.  

 

The ghost of a smile in the Vulcan’s eyes.  A drop in the timbre of his voice.

 

 _Captain_.

 

He’s _definitely_ flirting back.

 

~

 

‘That _pointy-eared hobgoblin_.  He does my head in, Jim.’

 

If Jim is six parts spellbound, his Chief Medical Officer is not.  

 

The doctor is a friend of many years.  A man of ready humour, but also of simple passions, and straight-forward principles.  To Jim Spock’s strangely regulated emotions are a thing of fascination.  A series of ever-flickering images, just beneath the surface.  

 

The doctor simply finds him infuriating.    

 

‘You shouldn’t let him tease you, Bones.’

‘ _Tease_ me?  He wouldn’t know a joke if one bit him.’

‘I think - ’  Jim hesitates.  ‘I don’t think we can always tell when he’s laughing.’

The doctor narrows his eyes.  ‘Is that so?’

‘What?’  Jim is all innocence.

‘You think I haven’t seen the way you play eye-tennis with him?’

‘Are you suggesting, Doctor McCoy,’ - Jim tries to sound indignant - ‘that my assessment of Mr Spock’s character is anything other than objective?’

‘That’s _exactly_ what I’m suggesting, Jim.’

 

Jim smiles.  Because his heart is light, and it really doesn’t matter.  And it’s rather fun to watch the good doctor stew a little.

 

‘Bones, you may have a point.’

 

~

 

This voyage is Jim’s first command of a Starship.  He’s the youngest Captain in Starfleet.  But it’s what he’s wanted all his life.  Even as a solemn, bookish child in Iowa, he was dreaming of outer space.  

 

He has worked for this with dedication and passion.  His service record is brilliant, and he already has a reputation for fearlessness, and for original thinking.  And now she’s his.

 

His _Enterprise_.

 

The galaxy is his oyster, and on top of that he’s initiated a dizzyingly enjoyable flirtation with his First Officer.

 

If he wasn’t currently sixty-three light-years away from Earth, Jim would say that he’s _on top of the world_.


	3. A Personal Project

Jim has had lovers from more than one corner of the known universe.

 

There were centuries in Earth’s history, he knows, when people tried to polarise things.

 

Black or white.

 

Boys or girls.    

 

Earth or Mars.

 

In the twenty-third century this is hardly possible.  

 

In Iowa, perhaps.

 

But among the more cosmopolitan sections of Federation society it’s hard to keep track of which is the most fashionable boundary to break. 

 

Jim is very far from being hip, happening, or revolutionary.

 

He just gets a bit overexcited around beautiful people.

 

He just - he’s thirty-three, and unattached, and an _alpha-male_ , for christ’s sake -  

 

He just happens to extrapolate very quickly from _beauty_ to _sex_. 

 

And beauty comes in many different shapes.  

 

~

 

Over the first few months of the mission he learns all sorts of things about Vulcans.

 

Vulcans were once the Galaxy’s most savage, dangerous species.  

 

They have, nevertheless, intellects that far surpass those of the most brilliant humans.

 

Vulcans can access, via physical contact, the central and peripheral nervous systems of other sentient beings.

 

They can use this ability to exchange information - or to induce a state of incapacitation.

 

Vulcans are rumoured to be phenomenal lovers.  

 

They are still, according to some sources, the most dangerous species in the known universe.

 

Vulcans as a society are deeply secretive, and among non-Vulcans…no-one is very clear about the extent to which Vulcans still have _feelings_.

 

~

 

These things he learns from the ship’s library, and from idle gossip in the bars of various planetary systems.

 

But he also starts to learn other things.

 

Vulcan’s are very reluctant to use words inaccurately.  But they have curious ways of mis-imparting the truth.

 

Vulcans do not speak an emotional language.  But if you speak _to_ their emotions - their emotions will flicker, like the strange, subtle guttering of candle-light, back at you.

 

Vulcans are obsessively observant of _rules and regulations_.

 

But if you tease them into it - during, for instance, a long, competitive game of three-dimensional chess - they will take unlikely gambles too.

 

Vulcans take their duties very seriously.  Are true to the mission, and the Federation.

 

But sometimes - it must be egotism, or maybe even wishful thinking - you feel that they are truest to _you_.

 

Vulcans can be extremely disconcerting.

 

Vulcans are _fascinating_.


	4. A Pleasant Illusion

‘Mr Spock.’  Jim exaggerates his anger, because if he didn’t he would probably just take the beautiful damn fool in his arms.  ‘Even if regulations are explicit - you could have just come to me and explained.’

‘And asked you to face the death penalty too?'

 

It has been one of the oddest days of his life - and Jim has known all kinds of odd.  Starting with his First Officer telling a lie, and closely followed up by said First Officer kidnapping Captain Pike, and hijacking the _Enterprise_. Vulcans _can't_ tell lies.  That, at least, is what Vulcans say.  Jim thinks he's starting to get the joke. Vulcans, it seems, are fond of semantic games.

 

Sitting through the whole bizarre court-martial, Jim has been in a state of considerable turmoil.  Torn between anxiety for his officer and friend, and a furious and disproportionate sense of betrayal.  And now - improbably - _impossibly_ \- the whole matter has been explained.

 

Spock still _belongs to him_. His loyalty is absolute.  And Jim is rather grateful that Captain Pike is in the room.  The older man may be little more, right now, than a butterfly in a diving bell.  But his presence prevents Jim from doing anything inappropriate.

 

He sticks to the game.  The increasingly familiar rules.

 

‘This regrettable tendency you’ve been showing, lately, towards _fragrant emotionalism_ \- ’

‘I see no reason to insult me, sir. I believe I have been completely logical about the whole affair.’

 

 _Game, set, match_ , and (cheekbones and all) he's gone.

 

Nobody’s going to die.  Nobody’s even going to lose their commission.  And Jim can’t recall a single flirtation, in his whole life, that was _this much fun_.

 

Moments later, from the screen, the Talosian addresses him.  ‘Captain Pike has an illusion.  And you have reality.  May you find your way as pleasant.’

 

The supercilious old bat.

 

 _‘_ Pleasant’ doesn’t even _begin_ to cover it.

 

~

 

A few days later, on the bridge, Jim tries to get Spock to rub his back.  Spock sidesteps the game.  Makes his little trick fall flat.  

 

And then he politely ignores it.

 

That night Jim thinks things that - up until now, and with _professionalism_ in mind - he has been fairly careful not to think.

 

~

 

None of this _bothers_ Jim, to start with.  He's one of life’s natural adventurers.  A natural leader.  A natural lover.

 

When he wants something it is only natural to flirt with it.  Natural for him to make it want him back.

 

When something is alien he feels an instinctive need to get to know it.  

 

When something is exotic, making love to it is a natural instinct.

 

He doesn’t ask himself difficult questions.


	5. Make me Immortal

‘I object to intellect without discipline,’ Spock says to Trelane.  ‘I object to power without constructive purpose.’

 

And, for the first time, Jim knows _exactly_ how much he wants to kiss him.  It’s almost a miracle that he doesn’t.  He wants to kiss him until he dies.  He wants to kiss him until they both fall off the end of the universe.

 

Jim does tend to want to kiss other people - quite a lot.

 

But he is moderately disturbed.

 


	6. Seeds of Doubt

‘ _It is better to rule in hell than serve in heaven_.’

‘It would be interesting, Captain, to return to that world in a hundred years, and learn what crop had sprung from the seed you planted today.’

_Metaphorical language, Mr Spock?_

But Spock's tone is troubled. 

 

And Jim is troubled too.  It’s not his habit, once he has made them, to question his own decisions.  But this one has left him strangely uncomfortable. 

 

A genetically enhanced superman from the past tries to take over your ship, almost kills you, and demonstrates his intent to subjugate mankind and impose a twentieth-century-style dictatorship.  But you cannot suppress a sneaking admiration.  For his strength, for his audacity, for the scale of his ambition.  So you don't hand him over to the Federation authorities for 'reorientation.'  Instead you give him a barren planet, his people, and his freedom.  A chance to realise his vision.  

 

Spock's eyes tell Jim that he is being very _human_.  To Spock, he knows, Khan's _vision_ represents a basic ethical violation. 

 

Usually, this would be the perfect opportunity for an argument.  The sort of intellectual wrangle that Spock (who is visibly discomposed by raised voices, and abhors, Jim knows, though he will employ it when necessary, physical violence) occasionally cannot resist.  But at this moment…

 

Jim just has a nasty feeling in his gut.  A strange sense of where this moment sits, between the future and the past.

 

‘Yes, Mr Spock,’ is all he says.  ‘It would indeed.’

 


	7. Intellectual Pursuits

Both Jim’s parents are academics.  Eccentric reclusives, holed up in Iowa, dedicating their lives to the pursuit of Science.  

 

Jim has half of Starfleet (and sometimes himself) dazzled with his own brilliance.  But to his parents he is something of a disappointment.  An action-man with a phaser, when they wanted - Jim knows, although they are both far too gentle, and too sensitive, to say so - they would have liked him to be a nerd.

 

Why go mad-capping around the galaxy, when you can learn so much in your own back yard?

 

Jim’s relationship with them is a funny mixture of mutual disappointment, mutual irritation, and mutual burning love.  

 

When Jim was young and naive enough to think every lover was _the one_ , he used to bring them home.  They invariably met, it has to be said, with a rather tepid reception.  Ruth was ‘a little insipid’ (‘dull as ditchwater,’ his brother Sam translated).  Janice was ‘a bit neurotic’ (‘mad as a march hare,’ was Sam’s less tactful verdict).  Areel was ‘very independent-minded’ (‘leading you a merry dance, let’s face it’)and Carol ‘rather _serious_ ’ (‘out of your league, Jim, to be honest’).

 

It’s all very well for Sam.  Who, besides being a highly respected research biologist, has always had (since he was nineteen, anyway) brilliant, generous, universally-beloved Aurelan.  

 

One afternoon, idly listening to his First Officer and Chief Engineer discuss, with quiet enthusiasm, potential modifications to the control back-up systems, it strikes Jim, quite out of the blue, that his mother would _really like Spock._

 

For reasons he can’t quite put his finger on, it’s a deeply unsettling thought.

 


	8. A Meddling Medic

‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘You don’t think so, _what_?’

‘I don’t think so, _Sir_.’

 

If it was anyone else Jim would think he had been drinking.  Spock’s voice, over the communicator, is careless - _mocking_.  And Jim is torn between fury, and incredulity, and a desire to laugh at the whole situation.

 

‘Spock, report to me immediately.’

 

Silence.

 

‘Spock!’

 

Nothing.

 

The doctor looks uneasy.  ‘That didn’t sound at all like Spock, Jim.’

 

Not - 

 

Briefly, Jim is distracted from the matter in hand.

 

‘I thought you said you might _like_ him if he mellowed a little.’

‘I didn’t say that!’

‘You said that!  I - ’

‘Not _exactly_ …’

 

Perhaps not _exactly_.  They were both very drunk.  Jim has a feeling that the way the doctor phrased it may have been less appropriate.     

 

Bones takes it upon himself, quite regularly, to tease him about Spock.  And Jim sometimes suspects that he is doing it with intent.  Likes to see how quickly he will leap to his First Officer’s defence.  Bones can be remarkably subtle sometimes - and he wonders if the doctor’s keeping tabs on his feelings.  _Checking his pulse_.

 

Right now, however, Bones looks unusually serious.  And his voice drags Jim back to the present.

 

‘He might be in trouble.’


	9. Silicon

‘This will be a dangerous hunt.  Either one of us by himself is expendable.  Both of us are not.’

 

Jim is conscious of a childish need to punish his First Officer.  By suggesting that the monster they are hunting be captured, rather than killed, Spock has just been - ever-so-slightly, but by his own standards startlingly - insubordinate.

 

‘Captain.’  Spock looks completely innocent.  ‘There are approximately one hundred of us engaged in this search.  Against _one creature_.  The odds against you and I both being killed are two thousand two hundred twenty eight point seven - to one.’

 

He would suspect anyone else of making it up.  But not Spock.  He suspects him merely of turning intellectual somersaults in order to get what he wants. 

 

He is fully aware that his First Officer is a humanoid computer.  That a dizzying number of rapid calculations are constantly occurring in his head.  _Not just a pretty face_.  

 

He’s the most brilliant wingman Jim’s ever had.  

 

 _The_ _perfect playmate._

 

‘Well, I hate to use the word, but _logically_ , with those kind of odds - you might as well stay.  But’- knowing that he is pushing the rules of the game, but he can hardly help himself - ‘please stay out of trouble, Mr Spock.’ 

 

‘That is always my intention, Captain.’

 

Butter wouldn’t melt.

 

 _Damn_ but he’s good.

 

~

 

Jim is aware that his attitude to his First Officer has become proprietorial.  That he thinks of Spock as belonging to him.  His loyal sidekick - and his favourite toy - and his indispensable wingman.

 

But he’s not the sort of man who wastes time analysing this kind of thing.  If he did he wouldn’t be Starfleet’s most idiosyncratically brilliant captain.    


	10. A Fine Romance

Accidentally, nearly seven months into the five year mission, Jim falls in love.

 

He doesn’t mean to.  Was fairly sure, at his age, and after so many wretched mistakes, that he had control of his foolish, susceptible heart.

 

Perhaps it’s because they are stuck somewhere so far back in Earth’s past.  A simple, pre-space age and an innocent, liquid-eyed girl - with quixotism in her heart, and dreams that extend to the stars.

 

She has to die, of course.

 

Has to lose her life in order to preserve the _status quo_ of the known universe.

 

~

 

The pain is sharp and brutal.

 

But it’s really nothing new.

 

These wounds always heal slowly - but they invariably heal.

 

‘Does this mean you’re over the Vulcan?’ the doctor - rather heartlessly - asks.  

 

It’s three weeks later, very late at night, and he and Jim are most of the way through a medicinal bottle of scotch.

 

‘Bones, I fail to understand you.’  Jim plays ingenuous.

‘Six weeks trapped together in 1930’s New York.  Just the two of you.  He spends the time building a computer, and you spend it chasing a girl.  Take it from me, Jim - ’

The doctor clinks his glass, a trifle unsteadily, against Jim’s - 

‘It’s never going to work.’

 

~

 

Jim brushes the doctor off with a tasteless joke or two.

 

And yet he is perturbed.

 

 _If she hadn’t died…_  

 

If she hadn’t died he would still not have stayed.  

 

He is _the Captain,_ and deep down he always knew that he would return to the _Enterprise_.

 

In other words, he thinks, as he makes his somewhat whisky-addled way back to his quarters… 

 

Edith Keeler may have absorbed all his attention.

 

But losing Spock was never an option.

 

~

 

As he tumbles into bed he has one final, muddle-headed revelation

 

 _Computers_.

 

Damn them.

 


	11. Tentacles

‘How is he?’

‘To be very frank, Jim, I don’t know that I can do anything for Spock, or your nephew.’

Today Bones’ voice is neither teasing nor irascible.  He is quietly, mercifully, matter-of-fact.

 

This must be the worst day of Jim’s life to date.  Sam and Aurelan are dead.  Killed by parasitic lifeforms that somehow infiltrate the spinal cord, control the body, and inflict unthinkable pain.  And now Spock -  

 

‘His body’s full of these tentacles,’ says Bones grimly.  ‘Entwining and growing, all about his nervous system.’

 

Deep within Jim, something _whimpers_.  Sam is dead, and Spock is - 

 

Spock…and _Sam’s boy…_  

 

‘My nephew?’

‘The same.’

 

**~**

 

The day plays out the way that nightmares do.  Spock storming the bridge, with the strength of a crazed superhuman, and the eyes of a tortured animal - and it takes four of them to tackle him to the floor.  Spock writhing on the bed in sickbay, as he battles the tendrils of pain that have wound themselves into him.  ‘I am a Vulcan, doctor.  Pain is a thing of the mind.’

‘You’re only half Vulcan,’ Jim says.  ‘What about the human half of you?’

Abruptly Spock’s face twists, and his body arches against the restraints.  But his voice is still that of Jim’s First Officer.  ‘It is - proving to be - an inconvenience.’

And for a moment Jim thinks, _love…_  

 

But just for a moment.

 

‘Can he control it the way he says, Bones?’

‘Who knows, Jim?’

 

Reality plummets to new depths.  ‘Understandably upsetting,’ says Spock, in reference to his own death.  His and that of over a million possessed souls - the remaining population of this planet.  And for a moment Jim thinks, _hate…_

 

And then Jim watches - he lets Spock - he _facilitates_ and _approves_ the experiment - 

 

The creatures can be destroyed by brilliant light.  One million candles, says Bones precisely, per square inch.  They need a guinea-pig - a _sacrifice_.  And Spock is already infected.  Is, as he calmly points out, the _logical choice_.

 

Bones looks at Jim, and Jim has never before seen such an expression in the doctor’s eyes - 

 

And Jim says, _Proceed_.

 

‘The creature within me is gone.  I am free of it, and the pain.’  His First Officer’s voice has never been so expressionless.  ‘I am also…quite blind.’

 

Jim must also be quite blind - at least, he reaches for Spock like a blind man.

 

‘Bones, it wasn’t your fault.  _Bones_.’

The doctor says nothing.  Perhaps because he doesn’t agree.  Or perhaps because he cannot say the same thing to Jim.

 

It’s only much later, after they have destroyed the creatures and saved the day, and his First Officer is back to normal, that Jim remembers, at some point during the course of the whole hellish dream, hearing himself say, _I need you_.

 


	12. Fool For You

‘If we weren’t missing two officers, and a third one dead, I’d say someone was playing an elaborate game of trick-or-treat on us.’

‘ _Trick-or-treat_ , Captain?’

‘Yes, Mr Spock.’   

 

Jim turns to his First Officer.  His eyes, innocent as a child’s, are on Jim’s.  And Jim’s gaze lingers on the impossible cheekbones, and the elegant contours of his ears.

 

‘Trick or treat.  You’d be a natural.’

 

_Did he just say that?_

 

Spock takes no offence, thank god.  Jim may be the galaxy’s most crass speciesist, but at least the remark has  gone right over his victim’s erudite head.  He shoots the doctor an embarrassed look - and Bones has the has the decency not to react.

 

‘Shall we have a look around?’

 

_Idiot._

 

Idiot, idiot, idiot.

 


	13. Caesar of the Stars

Certain things in life are predictable.  

 

Bones is irascible.

 

Planets are spherical.

 

Girls (well - humanoids, young and attractive ones, of various classifiable and unclassifiable genders) are seducible.

 

Jim is fully aware that his seduction technique is cheap, and fairly obvious.  The word _sleazy_ has been used.  In a way it’s an ego-boost.  To know that women (and various classifiable-and-unclassifiables) like him enough not to be put off by the dodgy lothario act.  It’s tiring being a hero - saving the galaxy, day after day, from itself.  Jim’s aware that, during the past few years, he has stopped trying to be the good guy when it comes to sex.  

 

Which is all fine and well…but doesn’t leave him with the faintest idea, when it comes to Spock.  A few innuendo-laced comments, and a gaze dripping with intent, under the nearest sunset..?

 

Oh dear _god_.

 

Week by week, it seems, they’re growing closer together.  Becoming more inextricably tangled up in one another.

 

But when it comes to actually getting his Science Officer into bed?

 

Sex with Spock is something Jim often thinks about.  Especially late at night.  Especially when he’s drunk.

 

But translating the fantasy into _reality_?

 

The closer they get, the less idea he has.

 


	14. A Question of Decency

‘The Companion loves you.’

‘Do you know what you’re saying?’  Cochrane’s voice is thick withloathing.  ‘For all these years I’ve let something as alien as that crawl around inside me.  Into my mind - my _feelings_ \- ’

‘What are you complaining about?’ Jim says.  Reasonable.  Brusque.  ‘It kept you alive, didn’t it?’

‘That thing fed on me.  _Used_ me.’  His face is a twisted mask.  ‘It’s disgusting.’

‘There’s nothing disgusting about it,’ says the doctor, with startling conviction.  ‘It’s just another life form, that’s all.’  A smile in his voice.  ‘You get used to those things.’

_Dear, noble Bones..._

 

They shouldn’t be surprised, Jim thinks.  There are people back in Iowa who’ve never even _met_ a creature from ‘outer space’.  Some of his own crew would probably draw the line at a sexual relationship with a member of an extraterrestrial species.  Zefram Cochrane may have been a pioneer in his time.  But _his time_ was the twenty-first century.  If he’s horrified by the idea that the alien life-form that has kept him alive harbours romantic feelings towards him - well, so would most men have been, back then.

 

And then Spock speaks.

 

‘Your highly emotional reaction is most illogical.  You relationship with the Companion has, for one hundred and fifty years, been emotionally satisfying, eminently practical, and totally harmless.  It may, indeed, have been quite beneficial.’

 

 _Emotionally satisfying_.  _Quite beneficial_.  Jim want to kiss him, and to kill him, and to do a number of things that would doubtless shock Cochrane to the core of his twenty-first-century soul, all at the same time.

 

‘Is this what the future holds?’  Cochrane’s blue eyes are bright, and burn cold.  ‘Men who have no decency, or morality?  Well, maybe I’m a hundred and fifty years out of style, but I’m not going to be fodder for any inhuman monster.’   And he stalks out of the room, swinging on his heel.

 

‘Fascinating,’ says Jim’s First Officer.  Genuinely taken aback.  ‘A totally parochial attitude.’

 

And the smile that tugs at the corners of Jim’s mouth is made up of many different parts.  Of _pride_ \- Spock is so utterly unable to relate to stupidity, or to prejudice.  Of protectiveness - he's like a child.  A prodigal one, with an intellect as big as the cosmos, and yet - so vulnerable to the illogical whims of an irrational universe.  

 

And of horror.  

 

 _Eminently practical_.  _Totally harmless_. 

 

 _Is that it?_ Jim thinks.  And cold blue fire runs through his bones.  _Is that all you’ve got?_

 

And perhaps Jim is just as _parochial_ as Cochrane.  Because, for a moment, it crosses his mind.

 

 _Inhuman_.

 


	15. Divine Intervention

‘Verbose, isn’t he?’

‘Insulted, Spock?’

A slight widening of his eyes.

‘Insults are effective only where emotion is present.’

 

 _Which_ _doesn’t mean_ _no_.

 

 _Semantic games_.

 

And a message - a _joke_ \- that is meant for Jim alone.

 

No other flirtation in his life has brought him to this strange _impasse_.  And yet… 

 

The fabric of Jim’s happiness is increasingly composed of such things.

 


	16. In Vino

_Vulcans_ , Jim thinks, are like children.  Terrifyingly intelligent ones.  Jumping effortlessly from one staggeringly complex logical computation to another, and missing the _god-damn obvious_.  Perhaps that’s why they live so long.  Perhaps, some way into the second century of their natural lives, Vulcans start to gain _wisdom_.

 

In the meantime… 

 

In the meantime, Vulcans in their fourth decade, with vast eidetic memories, a quite self-destructive degree of loyalty, and apparently, despite (verified, and undeniable - perhaps Jim has done a little more research than Starfleet would consider entirely appropriate)…despite having had a number of lovers, not all Vulcan, some in fact _human_ , and having apparently lived up to (or perhaps Jim's source, in that bar on Argelius II, was _toying_ with him…) certain _rumours_ about his race…

 

At this point Jim’s whisky-addled train of thought stutters out completely, as Bones drops him, fully-clothed, onto his bed, and hypo-sprays a COX-3-inhibitor ('Won’t help you now, old man - but it might mean you wake up feeling a little less like death.’) into his neck.  

 

‘Bones.  Mm…’

‘Go to _sleep_ , Jim.  Good _night_.’

 

 _Not over_.

 

‘Sorry, Jim?’

 

‘Not over…the Vulcan.’

 

For a strange, blurry moment, Bones looks oddly _pleased with himself_.

 

And then the familiar look of exasperation is back.  ‘Crissakes, Jim.  I’ve never known anyone waste so much time over a pretty face.’

‘…not like that.’

‘He’s a green-blooded lizard, Jim.  Trust me, he’s not your _type_.’

‘…Bones?’

‘Jim?’

‘…mine.’

‘Didn’t catch that, old man.’

‘ _My_ lizard.  Mine.’

 

~

 

Jim’s flirtations seldom last long.  Either he loses interest, or the object of his attentions succumbs.

 

Never before has he found himself involved in such a prolonged, intricate dance.  Never before been both so hypnotised, and so unsure of himself.  

 

When Jim steps forwards, Spock steps backwards.  But where is he leading them to?

 

Jim being Jim, however, and used to instant gratification…he does find other ways to stay amused.  

 


	17. Biological Units

Jim is deeply confused by _Pon Farr_.  When Spock finally tells him about it so many unsettling thoughts crowd into his head that he has to leave the room.  Rather fast.   

 

He’s assumed that Vulcans have sex like most humanoids.  He is fully _au fait_ with the rumours - and on Omicron Ceti III the damn _post-coital glow_ was so bright it hurt his eyes.

 

But he doesn’t know how to factor in this.  Some primeval lust, so powerful that it’s literally making Spock sick.

  

He has the disturbing suspicion that, every seven years, Vulcans have really, _really_ _good_ sex.  Probably off the spectrum.

 

And at the same time he has the frustrating sense that he has rather lost Spock’s attention.  

 

Perhaps that’s why, when Spock’s intended changes her mind, and picks Jim ( _of all people_ ) to champion her, he accepts the challenge.  Because, in some way he can’t articulate, Jim needs this to be about _him_ and Spock.  Not Spock and T’Pring.  Not Spock and anyone else.    

 

And it works.  When Spock thinks he has killed his Captain, he loses all interest in the girl.  The fever burns out.

 

The fever is gone.  Which is good, because it means that Spock won’t die, or leave him to marry some selfish little Vulcan minx.  And yet...

 

Jim is left with an obscure sense of disappointment.  

 

~

 

He dreams about the fight for months.

_Spock's body under his in the dust, and Spock's hands reaching for his throat. A red sun beating down on his back, and Spock's eyes blank with primal lust..._

He invariably wakes with a full-body ache, and a hunger for something that isn't quite (or not _just_ ) sex.

During his waking hours he generally avoids thinking about it.


	18. Thorns

_Vulcans are true to the mission.  But sometimes you feel they are truest to you._

 

If you throw yourself in front of a gun, it appears that this Vulcan will throw himself too.

 

In fact, he will throw himself _in front of you_.

 

Jim is very far from being a scientist.  Doesn’t extrapolate from field data, as a rule.

 

However, following a rather alarming demonstration of the above theory on Gamma Trianguli VI, he starts to seriously wonder if there’s any way of curbing the (brave, selfless, _potentially suicidal_ ) inclinations exhibited his First Officer.

 

If only to save Jim himself from becoming slightly frantic, before the knowing eyes of his crew.

 

~

 

Jim Kirk lives on a new, and brutal, frontier.  He has studied old Earth cultures where even the life of a soldier was almost sacrosanct.  But not here.  Not in the twenty-third century, when species from so many solar systems are adventuring into space - and adventuring into one another.  He learned to handle death very early in his career.

 

It crosses his mind, therefore, to worry about how emotionally invested he has become in the continued survival of his First Officer.

 

Jim frequently takes calculated risks with the lives of his subordinates.  And Spock…in the eyes of a Starfleet captain, Spock should be as expendable as any other senior crew member.  

 

The prospect of losing him, at least, should be something Jim can imagine.

 

He finds that it isn’t.  


	19. Reflections

Jim is in a strange, brutal, mirror universe - and he has forgotten to bring Spock.

 

He _hates_ it when he forgets to bring Spock.  The adventure is never half as much fun.  And he always feels oddly lost.

 

But on this occasion he is in a mirror universe - with a _mirror Spock_.  One with a beard.  And a startling, arrogant ruthlessness.

 

 _Attractive_ , nevertheless.

 

‘Twelve hours, Captain?  That is unprecedented.’

 

The same graceful flicker of expression across his face.  But -

 

 _It’s a challenge._ And - something more.  Something to do with the way his eyes run over Jim's bare arms… 

 

God knows Jim has other things to worry about.  Getting back to his own dimension, for a start.  Nevertheless… 

 

 _Damn_ , but it’s hot.

 

~

 

Jim’s been mistaken for his mirror self - a man who is clearly a monster.  And the entire crew of this hellish mirror _Enterprise_ seem preoccupied with betraying and murdering either him or each other.  

 

With the notable exception of his mirror First Officer.  

 

Spock’s loyalty to his Captain, it seems, transcends such trifles as _dimensions._   Although _why_ , knowing what he does about his mirror counterpart, Jim can’t begin to imagine.

 

And then mirror Spock learns that Jim isn’t _him_ \- that there’s been an inter-dimensional switch - and volunteers to help Jim get home. ‘I must have _my_ Captain,’ he says, by way of explanation.

 

Jim is in the absurd gold vest that his counterpart wears as a uniform.  Designed, Jim is fairly sure, to show off the muscles in his arms.  And Spock-not-Spock is much too close, and between them is something that is-and-isn’t.  That crackles, and sparks, and… _doesn’t_.

 

 _Oh_ , Jim thinks stupidly.  

 

 _His_.

 

Like that.

 

Of course.

 

~ 

 

But it doesn’t matter, not in the least, when he materialises back on his own _non-mirror_ ship.

 

‘ _Spock_.’

The glow in his chest is the first day of summer.  Is the sunshine on Spock's face.  

‘Welcome home, Captain.’

 

If later he finds himself teasing his First Officer, with rather childish malice - well, it’s all been a bit much, and somebody has to be punished.

 

~

 

Two days later, however, the teasing is brought to an abrupt stop.

 

If _mirror Spock_ maintained a dignity, and a nobility, it is very clear that _mirror Jim_ did not.  The entire crew of the _Enterprise_ give the same account of him.  Impossible to mistake, they are all anxious to reiterate, for the Captain they know and love.  _Brutal, savage, unprincipled, uncivilised, and treacherous._

 

‘But the main giveaway,’ says Mr Chekov, with his usual cheerful naivety, ‘was the way he kept coming on to Mr Spock.’

 

The silence that ensues on the bridge is the kind where everyone tries, _very hard_ , not to betray their own thoughts.

 

Jim's First Officer, in particular, appears to have suddenly become quite extraordinarily absorbed in his work.

 

The doctor shakes his head.  Jim meets his eyes - and senses that his Chief Medical Officer is enjoying himself far, _far_ too much.

 

But all Bones says, drily, is, ‘ _Barbarous_.’

 

~

 

Over the next couple of weeks, Jim tries to summon up the courage to ask Spock.

 

He fails.  

 

Some bestial version of himself, who presumably took it for granted that - 

 

Oh _christ._

 

And did Spock simply reject the monster, with utter disgust?  Or was he in some way tempted?  What if he -

 

And which, for god's sake, would be worse?

 

Jim cannot, surely, be jealous of _himself_?


	20. Communication

Sometimes he feels as if he can read Spock’s thoughts.  But the constant, flickering communication between them - the shift of an eyebrow, a sideways glance, the twitch at the corner of a mouth - means that he’s not always sure who was first to think what.  

 

And, at the same time, he is conscious of having _no idea_ how Spock’s mind works.  His Science Officer holds vast constellations of information in his head, can accurately guestimate measurements, in at least four dimensions, at a glance - can perform mental calculations in minutes that would probably take the average human months.  

 

Sometimes Spock feels like an extension of himself.

 

But that can’t be right. 

 

If you can’t understand another person’s thoughts - and at the same time can’t see into his heart - what’s left?

 

 _Everything_ , his intuition says.


	21. Emotional Security

A renowned scientist builds a _multitronic unit_.  A computer which, he claims, can captain a starship.  Starfleet uses the _Enterprise_ to test the thing - and initially it’s a breathtaking success.  To say that Jim’s upset would be an understatement.  He’s thirty-four, and a goddamn computer is about to make him redundant. 

 

And Spock’s reaction only makes things worse.  ‘Did you see the love-light in his eyes?’  says Bones.  ‘The _right computer_ finally came along.’  The doctor’s only pushing Jim’s buttons, as usual, of course.  But this time - it _hurts_.

 

But later, on the bridge, when he asks his First Officer to evaluate the thing’s performance - asks him moodily - ‘It’ll be necessary for the log’ - without meeting his eyes…when he asks Spock to evaluate the thing, Spock tells him, quite seriously, that starships ‘run on loyalty to one man.’  That ‘nothing can replace it - or _him_.’

 

Jim’s having a very bad day, of course.  Is experiencing a quite uncharacteristic degree of neediness.  Perhaps that’s why, when Spock says what he does, he finds himself beaming at his First Officer like an idiot.  Giddy,  and stupid, and head-over-heels in - 

 

And then Uhura’s voice breaks the moment, and they are summoned back to business.


	22. The Colour Yellow

Jim has rarely had any trouble getting what he wants.  Certainly not when it comes to love.  In fact, love has tended to come to him, before he realises that he wants it.  Women - and men - and the occasional extra-terrestrial - throw themselves at him.  And he allows himself to be seduced, because - well, why not?

 

He’s not used to ambiguous signals, or to running after someone else.  

 

Since the moment he met his First Officer, he has been conscious that he wants him.  And not sure that he is wanted back.

 

This _Vulcan_ -ness, this alien regulation of emotion - he’s not sure that it’s something he can counteract.  And his own feelings are becoming confused.  

 

He wants more than friendship - but he’s not at all sure that all he wants is sex.  And he’s alarmed, in a way that is unfamiliar, by the prospect of jeopardising what he already has.  Because somehow, in the midst of all the debonair flirting, and daring exploits, and _boldy-going_ \- Spock has become the one person in the universe he can’t get by without.

 

For the first time in his life, he is starting to feel like a coward.


	23. Period Costume

‘You too!  Get out of the clothes.  Nobody’s going to put the bag on _me_ any more.’  

 

Jim is forcing two men he has never met before to undress at gunpoint, and he hopes it’s not too obvious just how much he is enjoying himself. 

 

When he glances at his First Officer and Ship’s Doctor, both are looking a little unnerved.  For a stupid, self-indulgent moment, he lets his gaze linger on said First Officer.  The elegantly contoured ears.  The impossible cheekbones.  

 

He is about to realise a fantasy that, he realises, has probably been bubbling away in his subconscious since they set foot in this suited-and-trilbied world. 

 

The disguises, of course, are necessary.  Well…arguably.  But for some reason Jim can’t meet the doctor’s eyes, when Spock puts on the hat.  In fact, Jim cannot _breathe_ …

 

Bones, no doubt, will mock him for _weeks_.

 

But for Spock in a fedora and pinstripe suit?

 

It’s worth it.


	24. Logic

What’s _so important_ about logic, Spock?’

‘Surely, Captain, that is self-evident.’

‘Humour me.  Your irrational, human friend.  Why is logic so important to Vulcans?’

 

He pauses for a moment.  And then - 

 

‘My species has a brutal history.  Millenia of war and savagery.  We are…very prone to emotion.’

‘Emotion?’

‘Yes.  If a Vulcan cannot use reason to govern his emotions, he becomes subject to…destructive passions.’

‘Every seven years?’

His First Officer looks uncomfortable, but his voice is even, and his hesitation barely perceptible.

‘No, Captain.  All the time.’

 

Vulcans are notoriously reluctant to talk about it - but it’s not exactly, Jim thinks, a secret.  He has read about pre-Surakian Vulcan.  About a people so savage they came close to self-inflicted extinction.

 

There’s no reason for his heart to play hopscotch.  No excuse for the tightness in his chest.  

 

Spock’s carefully regulated feelings, he has known almost from the start, are _feelings_ nonetheless.

 

It shouldn’t make the blood pound in his ears, to think that those feelings might be fierce, and primal, and dangerous.


	25. Heavy Petting

A bizarre stranger in a twentieth-century business suit has beamed out of nowhere onto Jim’s ship.  And Jim is trying very hard to make sense of it.  But it’s a little difficult to concentrate when… _Spock is_ _petting the stranger’s cat_.

 

‘What do you make of the cat, Mr Spock?’  He is uncomfortably aware that there’s a catch in his throat.  That his voice holds the suggestion of a croak.

 

‘Quite a lovely animal, Captain.  I find myself strangely drawn to it.’  Spock’s tone is relaxed, and unperturbed.  Expressing a purely scientific degree of interest.  Jim wishes he felt anything like the same objectivity, as he watches those long, beautiful fingers caress the creature’s neck.  Skim down the contours of its back.

 

He forces his attention back to the console. 

‘Navigation report?’

On the screen Mr Chekov frowns back at him.

‘We have analysed the direction of his beam, sir.  Our star maps show no habitable planets in that area of the galaxy.’

‘He did say his planet was hidden, Captain,’ says the gentle voice behind Jim.

And he glances back at his First Officer.  Spock’s fingers now are caressing the damn thing’s coccyx.  And the damn animal is arching under his touch.  Twisting to gaze adoringly into his eyes.  _Damn_ it.

 

Jim turns back to the console.

‘Engineering,’ he snaps.

‘Still unable to analyse it, Sir,’ says Scotty.  ‘It was so powerful it fused most of our recording circuits.’

 

It must be the first time, in Jim’s entire life, that he has identified with a _recording circuit_.


	26. Promises

Jim is tactile with almost everyone.  It’s just part of who he is.  He has to _connect_ with people.  It’s one of the reasons he always wins.

 

It’s just that increasingly, when he touches Spock - 

 

It’s not the electric shiver of desire that bothers him.  He’s used to that.  

 

And it’s not just the satisfaction he takes in getting Spock’s attention.     

 

He doesn’t like to dawdle over details.

 

He relies on intuition.

 

But every time he touches Spock, it feels like a promise.

 

And he doesn’t know who is promising what.


	27. Paradise

‘ _Miramanee?_ ’

 

Pain, and the taste of blood.  The wind roaring, and strange, unfamiliar voices above his head.

 

‘Does he recognise us?’

‘Everything is functioning normally except his memory.’

 

But he _remembers_.  Of course he does.  His people chased them, they hurled rocks - his _wife_ -

 

_Miramanee._

 

‘Doctor, is he strong enough for the Vulcan mind fusion?’  

‘We have no choice.’

 

And then there are fingers against his face, cold and strong as a vice.  A touch that makes his soul writhe, and his body ache.

 

‘You are James Kirk.’

 

_No._

 

‘ _James Kirk_.’

 

‘ _Miramanee!_ ’

 

It’s a cry for mercy. 

 

_Don’t do this_.

 

_Don’t make me go back_. 

 

_Don’t take her away_.

 

And the mind that has entered his doesn’t fight.  _They are one_ , and now it lets him speak.  Lets him repeat the words he wants to repeat -

 

_I am Kirok._

_I am Kirok._

_I am -_

 

Because he is protecting his Captain, as he always does.  Because he is _here_ , with his cool fingers pressed against Jim’s face.  Because - 

 

_Spock_.

 

_~_

 

After that he is James T. Kirk, and, as usual, he saves the planet.  

 

Kirok wasn’t a god, as he’d thought.  In fact Kirok never existed.  Jim just had a bump on the head, forgot who he was, developed grandiose delusions - and, most disturbing of all, _got_ _married_.

 

But Kirok lingers at the back of his mind, like the fading echo of love.

 

And later the girl dies in his arms, and he cradles her, and murmurs sweet nothings.  

 

She need never know that she married a shadow.  

 

A god who wasn’t. 


	28. The Captain's Conquests

Jim tends to find himself kissing other people - quite a lot.  For some reason most of the kissing happens when Jim is not exactly himself.  Split-self Jim, neurally-neutralised Jim, amnesiac Jim, telekinetically-controlled Jim, pretending-to-be-himself-in-an-alternative-reality Jim, under-the-biochemical-spell-of-Elasian-tears Jim - somehow, when these things happen, kissable people always seem to cross his path.

 

Jim-as-Jim, of course, has no objection to kissing, as such. 

 

And when sex is there for the taking - well.  He is often _very taken_.

 

But, since the business with Edith, he hasn’t come anywhere close to falling in love.

 

For reasons that he is oddly reluctant to explore, some strange, protective forcefield seems to have formed around his heart.


	29. Body Readings

‘Unknown, Captain.’  Spock’s voice, as dispassionate as ever, over the communicator.  ‘At present I am rather heavily - ’

Abruptly he cuts out.  Leaving Jim’s fevered imagination to conclude the sentence for itself. 

 

It’s a madcap piece of espionage, on behalf of the Federation.  All because the Romulans have developed an invaluable ‘cloaking device.’  Simulate a mental breakdown, and fly into the Neutral Zone.  Let the Romulans apprehend you - and then, essentially, _improvise_ …

 

Jim would probably have been reluctant, if he wasn’t so fascinated by Romulans.  But what’s not to like, in Jim’s opinion, about the Vulcans’ warlike cousins?

 

That’s what he thought, at any rate, before the Romulan commander started making eyes at his First Officer.

 

Before Spock started _responding_ to her. 

 

Alright, _improvising._ Jim knows that.  It’s just…

 

She’s certainly compelling, this enemy soldier.  With her cat-like smile, and _fuck-me_ eyes, and a voice full of suggestions.  There are all sorts of things, in a different situation, that Jim would like do her.

 

But what messes with his head is - what does _Spock_ want to do to her?  What’s he _doing_ to her, for that matter? 

 

‘Mr Spock is still aboard the Romulan flagship.  I want his body readings pinpointed and isolated.’

 

Doesn’t he just.  

 

Pinpointed, isolated, and put in a box marked _Property of James T. Kirk_.


	30. Entropy

It has struck Jim recently that he is getting older.

 

Women still respond to him.  So do men.

 

But when he looks at himself in the mirror with a critical eye, he notes that he is gaining weight.  Losing a little hair, perhaps.

 

Whereas Spock, god damn him, simply doesn’t change.  Just gets more beautiful, as you spend more time noticing his face.  

 

This is not Jim being romantic.  It’s entirely to be expected.  Spock’s life-expectancy is at least twice the length of his.    

 

But it disturbs Jim to think that, when he is an old man, Spock may still look like this.  

 

There will come a day when Spock has no reason to want him.

 

Of course, Jim reminds himself - it’s an audacity to suppose that, even now, Spock wants him.  


	31. The Beast

‘I’m losing command.’

 

There’s no air in the turbolift.  The walls are closing in.  And everything else is falling away from him.

 

‘I’m losing the _Enterprise_.  The ship is sailing _on and on_ \- ’

 

_Alone._

 

_Losing command._

 

‘Captain.’

 

Somewhere in the chaos he hears Spock’s voice.

 

‘I’ve lost command.  I’ve lost the _Enterprise_.’

 

And suddenly Spock is there at his side, and Jim reaches out, frantically - 

 

And then his hands are at Spock’s throat - and Spock is holding him, is murmuring, ‘ _Jim_ ’…is calling him back to himself.  He is in Spock’s arms - and the madness is draining from him.  

 

 _The children_.  That was it.  They did something to his mind.  Tapped into the fears that belong in bad dreams, and somehow set them loose.Something malevolent is controlling the children - and the children are controlling everyone else. 

 

Slowly, as everything comes back into focus, Jim realises that he is still clinging to his First Officer.  As if… 

 

He pulls away.

‘I’ve got command.’

‘Correct, Captain.’

Spock’s voice is measured and detached, and it steadies him.  But it wasn’t, was it, measured and detacheda moment ago?  It was the voice of - but _don’t think about that now._

 

‘Where to, Captain?’ Spock asks, as they step together out of the turbolift.  His usual polished deference.  No hint that - 

‘Auxiliary Control, my Vulcan friend.  This ship is off course.’

 

Quite how many things just happened - let alone what any of them meant - is not something Jim is remotely ready to think about.

 

He strides purposefully forward.


	32. Affirmation

Whenever he needs affirmation he turns to Spock.  He’s become aware that he glances at Spock just for confirmation of his own thoughts.  

 

He has an idea, he looks at Spock - Spock somehow reads his mind, and glances back, in a way that tells him that he’s probably right - that, in fact, half the time, Spock has thought of it first.

 

It isn’t normal.

 

It wouldn’t even be normal if he was in love.  He’s _been_ in love, several times in fact - and it wan’t like this.

 

He’s become reliant on someone else, simply to _exist_.


	33. A Tangled Web

Jim manages to fall through a hole into another universe, and spends several hours floating in space, with a rapidly-diminishing supply of oxygen, before they get him back.

 

When they finally do, his First Officer and ship's doctor are being uncannily _nice_ to one another.  Jim doesn't buy it for a minute, and he corners Bones at the earliest opportunity.  The doctor may be a tough old nut, but he's easier to crack than Spock.

 

'Come off it, Bones.  You think I'm going to buy this bullshit?'

The doctor looks at him for a moment.  And then, surprisingly, just shrugs.  'Jim,' he says.  'You should be dead.'

Which is something that Jim's often heard before, and he answers as he always does - with a wisecracking grin.  'Devil's own luck?'

Bones shakes his head.  'Devil's own First Officer.'

‘Spock?’

The doctor gives him a _look_.  The kind Bones normally gives him when he thinks Jim _knows perfectly well_ - 

 

Which is confusing.  Because Jim doesn’t.


	34. Aesthetic Appreciation

‘I have never before met a Vulcan, sir.’

‘Nor I a work of art, madam.’

 

Jim stares at his First Officer, in complete bewilderment.  Is he - did he just - 

 

Is he flirting with _someone else?_

 

It’s happened before, of course.  There was Leila Kalomi - but Spock was all hopped up on happy spores.  And the Romulan commander - but that was (wasn't it?)  _tactical_.  Whereas now…

 

Spock's eyes on her.  They _linger_.  Steal down the narrow contour of her back.

 

He's _definitely_ thinking what Jim thinks he’s thinking.

 

 _Dammit_.


	35. Physiology

Spock’s resting pulse, the doctor says, is two hundred and forty beats per minute.  And his normal blood pressure, compared to a human’s, is practically non existent.

 

Spock’s heart, Jim knows, is on the right.  Twelve months ago Spock was nearly killed, by a primitive lead bullet through the chest.  He wouldn’t have survived, Bones said, if his heart was on the left.  

 

An anatomy lesson Jim will never forget. 

 

When Spock is wounded he bleeds green blood.  Bones says that it’s copper-based. 

 

Jim dreams, feverishly, of cool, pale hands.  Of a heart that beats as swifty as a hummingbird’s wings.  

 

Of sweat that tastes like copper.


	36. Alienation

‘What makes you so sympathetic toward them?’

‘It is not sympathy so much as curiosity, Captain.  A wish to understand.  They regard themselves as aliens in their own worlds.  A condition with which I am somewhat familiar.’  

 

His voice is as neutral as ever.  He is merely answering Jim's question.  It merely happens that he has analysed his own inclinations, and found them to be related to his sense of being… _alien_.   

 

And Jim has to turn away for a moment, to deal with a quite startling wave of longing.  An almost painful surge of protective, possessive _want_ ing.

 

Best to change the subject.  Something - anything - unimportant.

 

‘Spock.  What does _Herbert_ mean?’

 

 _You belong at my side_ is not something he can say out loud to his First Officer.


	37. An Inviolate Thing

If Jim had been really pigheaded, he thinks, in the first months of the mission - if he had really been the beastly lothario that some people (Carol Marcus, for instance) seem to believe he is…if Jim had really been that man, he could almost certainly have got his new First Officer into bed.  

 

Because Spock, in his own gentle, hypnotic way, flirted _back_.  A sexual liaison of that kind might have compromised their fledging friendship.  But Jim was almost drunk with desire…and Spock, he is certain, was far fromindifferent.

 

But that was the problem, wasn’t it?  That everything got complicated.  Teasing banter turned into trust, and flirtatious glances rapidly evolved into a constant, unspoken dialogue.  Some subtle, intricate, delicate thing had started to develop, and Jim - whatever certain ex-girlfriends may think - was not brute enough to jeopardise it.  

 

And now whatever there is between them - this… _thing_ , to Jim, is infinitely precious. 

 

Doing anything impulsive and fool-headed - crowding his First Officer up against the wall of the turbolift, for instance, and kissing him until he begs…

 

The idea makes Jim’s skin feel hot and prickly…and at the same time twists his guts into a strange, cold knot.  

 

Because what if Spock was horrified - was betrayed, and baffled, and hurt - to discover that, for Jim, this infinitely precious thing is not enough? 


	38. A History Lesson

‘What are you waiting for?  Hurry!’

 

What’s going on?

 

Why this delay?  

 

When Spock’s voice carries through the portal, something isn’t right.  ‘How much time do we have?’

 

Why does he need _more_ _time_?

 

And then Jim hears the doctor.  ‘Something’s wrong.’

 

Spock and the doctor are behind the door - at least, five thousand years ago they were.  But in minutes Sarpeidon will be destroyed, when Beta Niobe goes nova.  When that happens the portal will cease to exist, and they’ll be trapped in the past forever.   

 

‘Spock!  McCoy!  You can’t get back unless you both come through at the same time.’

 

Jim is half delirious with worry - while, invisible on the other side of the barrier, the damn fools fritter second after precious second away.  And when they finally come through, and Jim is standing there with his heart in his mouth…

 

Neither of them will look him in the face.

 

~

 

Back on the ship he says, ‘Bones, are you alright?’

‘I’m fine, Jim.’

‘Is Spock?’

The doctor’s eyes slide away from his.  ‘I think so, yes.’

‘What _happened_ , Bones?’

‘I had a lesson in Vulcan history.  It was, to say the least…interesting.’

‘What did it involve?’

The doctor's eyes, when they finally meet Jim’s, are gently mocking.  ‘What all the best stories involve, Captain.  A girl, and a boy.’

 

And he presses Jim's shoulder with a friendly hand, and walks away. 

 

~

 

Jim knows enough about Vulcan history.  About a people who were savage and intemperate.  Enough to make the blood sing in his ears.  But what happens when you take a twenty-third-century Vulcan, and throw him five thousand years into the past…

 

He can only begin to guess.  

 

For the next few days his First Officer is, even by his own standards, very reserved.  Jim becomes aware aware that he has been keenly hurt - perhaps by something (some _one_?) he has lost…or perhaps by something he has learned about himself.

 

The surge of sexual jealousy doesn’t bother Jim much.  It’s hardly a novel experience.  And he isn't remotely surprised to find himself stirred by the concept of Spock being _intemperate_.

 

What bothers him is this frantic sense of tenderness.

 

The need to fold Spock in his arms.  

 

To tell him that, whatever millennium he gets lost in, his captain will seek him out.


	39. Words for Sand

When he first met his new Science Officer, Jim initiated a game.  It wasn’t unintentional, but he didn’t have a  _plan_.  He wanted Spock to want him back, and he got a quite spectacular kick (he reflects ironically back on it) from eye-flirting across the bridge.

 

He didn’t remotely factor in that Spock would become essential to him.  

 

So really, he thinks, it’s all his own fault.  To initiate a game without knowing the rules, or knowing what stakes there are to lose - it’s something no Starfleet cadet would do.

 

He has no-one but himself to blame, if by now he is quite hopelessly -

 

‘Spock, what’s the Vulcan word for love?’

‘I’m sorry, Captain?’

‘You heard me.’

 

 A very long pause.  And then - 

 

‘It is…complicated.’

‘How can it be _complicated_?’

‘You cannot be suggesting, Captain, that love isn’t?’

 

 _Captain_.

 

The next pause is Jim's.  Because he doesn't know where to start.  But finally - 

 

‘I - no.  But isn’t that the point?  Of having just one word for it?’

‘You are suggesting that by using semantics one can… _simplify_ matters?’

‘Yes.’

 

Why can’t he read Spock’s face?  He seems to have spent the past two years doing almost nothing else.  But that was before it was _complicated_.  Or at least, before he noticed that it was. 

 

‘Captain, you appear tired.’  

 

Spock is moving towards him, with a gentle hand outstretched.  Jim has had too much to drink, and it must be obvious.   

 

He knows what it’s like to be touched by Spock.  On several occasions (thanks to bullet wounds, deadly alien parasites, genocidal computerised probes, and a number of other potentially lethal side-effects of space travel) he has held his First Officer in his arms.  He could describe, for christ’s sake, the _smell of Spock’s skin_.  But he feels that if Spock touches him now…

 

If Spock touches him now Jim’s whole soul will unravel, and he will fall apart. 

 

Panicked and unsteady, he steps back.

 

‘I’m fine, Mr Spock.’


	40. An Old Soul

‘Mind if I join you, Captain?’

The doctor.

‘Of course.’  Jim gestures to the bottle.  ‘Pour yourself a glass.’

The doctor takes a seat, and helps himself to an inch of scotch.  And says, ‘Jim, listen.  I’ve been wanting to talk.’

 

Jim waits.  A little perturbed.  Usually when Bones has this look in his eye he’s about to tell him that someone important is going to die.  Or that he thinks Jim has lost his mind.  Or that the entire crew has been infected, although it’s a medical impossibility, by the bubonic plague.

 

The doctor swills the liquid around his glass.  And then takes a deep breath, and says, ‘About Spock.’

‘What about Spock?  He seemed alright, last time I checked.’

‘I don’t know whether Spock is, Jim.  But I’m pretty sure you’re not.’

‘I’m absolutely fine, Bones.  I assure you.  Right as rain.’

 

He wonders if it’s obvious that he's half a bottle in.

 

The doctor sighs.  ‘Do you want me to spell this out?’

 

Jim notices that his knuckles, under the table, have gone rather white.  

 

‘Bones - you can spell anything you like.’  

 

The doctor is an old, and very dear, friend.  But Jim is still going to make him suffer, before he lets him say certain things.

 

‘You’re a mess, Jim.  Oh - don’t take on.  I’m not questioning your professionalism.  I know you would never let that be compromised.  But you’re drinking too much, and the amount of stimulants and sleeping tablets you’ve been persuading me to give you - they’d be enough to kill a horse.’   

‘I’m not sleeping well.’

‘I’m aware of that.  And what I’ve been asking myself is - why not?’

 

Jim maintains a stubborn silence.

 

‘Jim, as a friend - ’

Jim interrupts.  ‘As a doctor, you can stick your nose in where you like.  But as a friend, I’ll thank you to mind your own business.’

‘Alright, as a doctor, then.  As your _doctor_ , Jim, I’m worried.’

 

The air rings, sharply, with the echo of petulant voices.  And they stare at each other for a beat or two, startled and self-conscious.

 

And then the doctor sighs.  ‘I’ve been in love, Jim.  Christ, you were there to pick up the pieces, after Nancy - ’

‘Bones.  I’m sorry.’ 

‘Don’t be.’  He smiles, wryly.  ‘I think the role of an embittered old soul quite suits me.  But - look, I know I've teased you about Spock.  Someone had to, if your were ever going to work out what you want.  But I think you have, haven't you?’  He pauses for a second, and then clarifies.  ‘You've figured it out.’

 

Oh _hell._

 

For a moment Jim closes his eyes.  

 

‘So what, old friend,’ asks the Doctor gently, ‘are you going to do about it?’

 

‘I don’t know.’

 

Drive the ship into an asteroid.  Rape him.  Set fire to the known universe.

 

He has very clear moral parameters.  He has very clear Starfleet rules.

 

He has very clear notions of _falling in love_.

 

And then he has Spock.


	41. The Wrong Question

‘Spock?’

‘Captain?’

‘That business with the mirror universe.  During the negotiations with the Halkans.’

‘I recall the affair, Captain.’

‘The _mirror_ _Jim_.  I never asked you - ’  Jim hesitates.

‘What do you wish to know, Captain?’

‘Chekov said that he - that he made certain advances.’

 

There’s a pause.  And then Spock says quietly, ‘He appeared to take it for granted that I…that I belonged to him.  In every sense.  Even once informed that he was in an alternative dimension, he - ’

He pauses again.  Evidently discomfited.

‘Spock?’

‘He maintained that the fact was so fundamental that, whatever universe he was in, it must inevitably be the case.’   

‘I’m sorry, Spock.’

‘Captain, you are in no way responsible.’ 

 

But Jim doesn't really want to apologise.

 

He wants to ask if _mirror Jim_ was right.


	42. An Idle Speculation

For more than two years, the ship has been the most important thing Jim’s life.  He’s a Starfleet captain.  His ship is his love.  

 

Lying in bed, staring morosely at the ceiling (the doctor’s sleeping tablets haven’t worked, and nor have three inches of scotch) Jim plays a game that he knows to be childish and ridiculous. 

 

Spock or the ship?  The ship or Spock?

 

Flames tear through the body of the _Enterprise_ , and the ship explodes.  The burning husk hurtles through space, and falls, like a strange red comet, towards the surface of some unknown planet.

 

It’s only hypothetical, of course.


	43. Epilogue

_Spock, what’s the Vulcan word for love?_

 

Spock has been trying to meditate, now, for several hours.  He has not tried to sleep.

 

Sleep is impossible.

 

Spock is, to the best of his knowledge, one of a kind.  A unique hybrid.  The inescapable consequence of this is that, wherever in the galaxy he goes, he does not _belong_.  Humans find him too Vulcan.  Vulcans find him too human.  

 

He is exotic from all points of view, and attracts a significant degree of (often sexual, and occasionally not unwelcome) attention.  But there is nowhere in the known universe where Spock does not feel himself to be that most exposed and yet insubstantial of beings - an alien.

 

For one year, seven months and thirteen days Spock has been fully aware that he is in love with his Captain.  Edith Keeler, ironically, was the catalyst to understanding.  _You belong at his side_ , she said.  And Spock was curiously unsurprised by her words.  They felt like a truth he had known, unconsciously, for months.  More revelatory was the searing pain in his chest as he watched the Captain’s eyes melt into hers.  Most elucidating, in fact, the violent, twisting hurt when he saw her in the Captain’s arms.  Spock was rather appalled, at the time, by how long it had taken him to apprehend himself.

 

Understanding came - beautiful, and brutal, and inexorable.  One year, seven months, and thirteen days ago.

 

Spock is in love with his Captain. 

 

And the Captain feels like _home_.

 

Regardless of the turmoil, the anguish, the restless nights - his place is now, and always will be, at the Captain’s side. 

 

Vulcans are instinctively monogamous.  Cleave to a mate with a fierce, unbounded passion.  A possessive, carnal fervor which dates back millennia, and far precedes the triumph of reason and the teachings of Surak.  Vulcan lore, Vulcan rite and ritual, serve to control and contain this hunger, as they do so many others.  But Spock is many light-years from his planet - and two thousand years of civilisation cannot save him now.

 

His Vulcan half has chosen James T. Kirk for a mate.

 

His human half has fallen in love.

 

Spock has no reason to believe that his feelings are requited.  Indeed, he has a significant number of reasons - all young, humanoid, and attractive - for believing otherwise.  But recently…

 

Recently the Captain’s behaviour has changed in ways that Spock finds impossible to analyse.

 

Spock has always known that the Captain desires him.  His pupils expand and his respiratory-rate increases in proportion to Spock’s physical proximity.  He initiates light-hearted courtship rituals, and when Spock responds (since the day they met Spock has had neither the will nor the inclination to resist) the Captain exhibits further signs of heightened autonomic activity.      

 

But now the Captain’s whole demeanour is altered.  The hunger in his eyes is… _different_.  And Spock must be wary of his own desires.  Of his hopeless lack of objectivity.    

 

With a sigh of frustration Spock gets to his feet.  Futile, to spend another night like this.

 

He already knows the answer.

 

The answer is _yes_.

 

He just needs to know what the question is. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luckily for our hapless heroes the story continues in the [next work](http://archiveofourown.org/chapters/18624274?show_comments=true).
> 
> And/or see the final chapter of this one for a comprehensive-ish list of references.


	44. References

The title is a _mis_ quotation (oops) from _The City on the Edge of Forever_.  

 

Prologue - ‘the episode on Holberg 917-G’ takes place in _Requiem for Methusalah_.  Jim gets besotted with a beautiful girl-shaped android, behaves very badly, and as a result she dies.  After the doctor makes him a rather ill-advised speech about love, Spock secretly uses a mind-meld to remove the painful memory from Jim’s mind.

 

An Irresistible Flirt references/quotes scenes from _Where No Man Has Gone Before_ , _The Corbomite Manoeuvre_ , _Mudd’s Women_ , _What Are Little Girls Made Of?_ and _Miri_ , in that order.  Uhura tries to romance Spock in _The Man Trap_ , and the Janice Rand/Beach fantasy is from _The Naked Time_.The ‘blonde lab technician’ is mentioned in _Where No Man Has Gone Before_ (Gary Mitchell admits to pushing her at the bookish young Jim, in the hope of getting him to lighten up, and Jim indignantly replies that he nearly married her).

 

A Pleasant Illusion is based on/quotes dialogue from _The Menagerie_ and _Shore Leave_ (the back rub scene).

 

Make Me Immortal - _The Squire of Gothos_

 

Seeds of Doubt - _Space Seed_.  Also foreshadowings of _The Wrath of Khan_.

 

Intellectual Pursuits - data regarding Jim’s previous lovers culled from _Shore Leave_ (Ruth), _Court Martial_ (Areel), _Turnabout Intruder_ (Janice), _The Wrath of Khan_ (Carol).  Sam and Aurelan feature (tragically) in _Operation: Annihilate!_   I made Jim’s parents up.

 

A Meddling Medic - _This Side of Paradise_

 

Silicon - _The Devil in the Dark_

 

A Fine Romance - _The City on the Edge of Forever_

 

Tentacles - _Operation: Annihilate!_

 

Fool for You - _Catspaw_

 

Caesar of the Stars - the title is a quotation from _The Conscience of the King_ \- a prime example of Captain Cringesome.

 

A Question of Decency - _Metamorphosis_

 

Divine Intervention - _Who Mourns for Adonais?_

  

In Vino - Argelius II is a planet dedicated to, er, ‘pleasure’, where the crew of the _Enterprise_ take ‘therapeutic shore leave’ in _Wolf in the Fold._  

 

Biological Units - _Amok Time_.  Title from _The Changeling_.

 

Thorns - _The Apple_

 

Reflections - _Mirror Mirror_

 

Emotional Security - _The Ultimate Computer_

 

Period Costume - _A Piece of the Action_  

 

Logic - this aspect of Vulcan history comes up a few times in TOS.  Spock puts it most explicitly in _Let That Be Your Last Battlefield_.  Surak (‘father of all we now hold true’) features in _The Savage Curtain_. 

 

Heavy Petting - _Assignment Earth_

 

Paradise - _The Paradise Syndrome_

 

The Captain’s Conquests - various types of sex pollen inhaled by Jim in _The Enemy Within_ (transporter accident), _Dagger of the Mind_ (neural neutraliser), _The Paradise Syndrome_ (bump on the head), _Plato's Stepchildren_ (telekinesis),  _Mirror Mirror_ (impersonating mirror Jim), and _Elaan of Troyiu_ s (Elasian tears).  Not a comprehensive list! 

 

Body Readings - _The Enterprise Incident_

 

The Beast - _And the Children shall Lead_

 

A Tangled Web - _The Tholian Web_

 

Aesthetic Appreciation - _The Cloud Minders_

 

Physiology - medical data from _The Naked Time_ and _A Private Little War_.  Spock gets shot with a ‘primitive firearm’ in the latter.  I don’t know where the idea that Vulcan blood is copper-based came from originally, but I decided to trust Memory Alpha!

 

Alienation - _The Way to Eden_

 

An Inviolate Thing - Carol Marcus features in _The Wrath of Khan_.  Whatever happened between her and Jim, she was angry enough to tell him to stay away from their son for the next twenty-something years.

 

A History Lesson - _All Our Yesterdays_

 

Words for Sand _-_ ‘deadly side-effects of space travel’ encountered in _A Private Little War_ , _Operation: Annihilate!_ and _The Changeling_.  The Nomad Unit in _The Changeling_ doesn’t try to kill Spock, but he gets overwhelmed when he mind-melds with it.  Jim drags a semi-comatose Spock out of the room, and then just sort of forgets to let go…

 

An Old Soul - Nancy features in _The Man Trap_ (‘ _that one woman_ in Doctor McCoy’s past’)

 

An Idle Speculation - foreshadowings of _The Search for Spock_

 

Epilogue - the references to Edith Keeler are again based on events and dialogue in _The City on the Edge of Forever_.  For the role of rite and ritual, as well as reason, in Vulcan civilisation, see _Amok Time._

 

 

I am entirely open to quibbles and corrections regarding the above!


End file.
